The End
by wecouldbe
Summary: "Have you ever been in love?" (Kyoya/OC, three of three one-shots)


**Author's note:** Here it is, the last of The Widow series! I had so much fun writing this, it really was my baby; I've been working on it since I started the first one-shot. I hope you like it! Please leave me a review telling me what you think! Thanks for reading, I'm really gonna miss this series :)

* * *

At some point the lines blurred between who was using who. Faces of ecstasy were now accompanied by faces of innocent laughter and everyday frustration, and somehow, someway, ten months had passed. He could scarcely believe how lucky he was.

They met in mid-April. It was just sex then. By the end of May, they were having daily lunches.

For her birthday in June, he gave her her dream dress. Her father threw her a ball and invited everyone she knew, and she and Kyoya danced together the whole night. But they weren't exclusive.

He stopped seeing other women in August. He tried his hardest to continue with his infamous charm, but even the most beautiful and interesting women did nothing for him — not even when they had their hands wrapped around his dick and the tops of their dresses were falling off their chests. He stayed soft no matter how hard both of them tried, and the girls always gave up. Shoving himself back into his trousers, he gave them some excuse about how he'd probably had too much to drink and excused himself without looking at them. Then he would slip into the nearest room and call Noa, who was always working late, and they'd meet at her office. He didn't know if she'd figured out his problem. If she had, she didn't say anything.

In October they spent a weekend together in Kyoto. Noa was a fan of nature, and they went just as the leaves had changed color. It was the most romantic thing they had done together, and although they weren't a couple, both of them had silently thought about what it would be like if they were. It was the first time he saw her without makeup on (he still liked the way she looked) and the first time she witnessed his true grouchiness upon waking up (she regarded it with humor and endearment). Up until that point, it had just been fucking, but in Kyoto, they made love.

For Halloween, she convinced him to dress up with her. They went as a doctor and a nurse — the only thing she could get him to agree on — and attended Hikaru and Kaoru's party together. At that point they were automatically the other's guest to all events. It was then that Kyoya realized he was no longer a "me", he was now a "we".

For his birthday in November, they went to the Swiss Alps. He caught a cold sometime between leaving Japan and touching down in Switzerland, so they spent most of the time in their chalet. She took care of him the whole weekend, staying cuddled up with him in bed and letting him fall accidentally fall asleep on her. She didn't even complain when she got sick a week later.

At Christmastime, they snuck kisses under the mistletoe at parties. She visited him at work every day and they locked themselves in his office so she could sit on his lap and whisper dirty things in his ear about what she wanted from Santa. They gave each other silly gifts like commoners' candy and cheap wine.

They spent New Year's Eve with Tamaki and Haruhi, with whom Noa had grown extremely close. Tamaki had had a custom kotatsu made, and he and Haruhi sat at one side while Kyoya and Noa sat at the other. Kyoya fingered her under the blanket. They didn't kiss at midnight like Tamaki and Haruhi but rather later, in private — even though everyone knew they were seeing each other, they had never openly admitted it. When Noa and Haruhi left to go make more tea, Tamaki had taken it upon himself to lecture Kyoya about how "when you love someone, you have to find the courage to express what's in your heart. You have to tell her how you feel about her." Kyoya had rolled his eyes.

In January she stopped wearing her wedding ring. The large emerald that she'd adorned every day since she got married at 19 was tucked safely away to be used for special occasions. She never acknowledged the action, but he noticed right away.

Now, in February, he was picking out jewelry to get her for White Day (canary yellow diamonds) when Valentine's Day hadn't even passed yet; it would be his first time celebrating for real. He had been at a meeting with his jeweler before he arrived at their daily lunch date.

"I'm leaving work early today," she said nonchalantly in between courses. "But if you want to, you can come by my house tonight." She scrawled down her address on the back of her business card and he stared at it.

They had done a lot together in ten months. Visiting each other's main estates was not one of them.

So that night, he gave the address to his driver and they drove out into the black rain. She lived in a townhouse in the heart of the city. From the outside it looked like an upscale apartment building — there were silhouettes of plants in a few of the illuminated windows, and even in the dark Kyoya could see a small garden outside of the front door. The French architecture didn't quite fit the rest of the neighborhood, and he had to triple-check the address just to make sure it was in fact the right place. When he thought about it, the aesthetic rather suited her.

A maid answered the door after a single knock and ushered him in, taking his damp coat. It was bigger on the inside than it looked, brightly lit with a western walls and furniture were neutral colors, the only exciting thing were the large windows and the potted trees and the flowers set in expensive vases. The floor was so shiny he could see his reflection. A grand staircase took up the majority of the room; at the top, it separated into two hallways.

"If you could remove your shoes and follow me, Ootori-sama," the maid said. "Mistress Noa is in her chamber."

He followed her up the stairs, soaking in the whole experience. It wasn't often he found himself in the home of someone for pleasure instead of business. Even though they'd stayed in other places owned by their families, this was different — this was where she spent most of her time. The maid gestured to the right hand corridor. "It's the door at the very end. Mistress said to let yourself in."

"Thank you," he murmured.

She bowed deeply and scurried back downstairs.

He took his time walking the short distance down the hallway, instead stopping to inspect every piece of art that lined the walls. He was impressed by her collection: most of the pieces were reprints of classic landscapes and portraits, but to his surprise there were a few that looked authentic. There were end tables and flowers on either side of each door. The bouquets were all beautiful but none of the arrangements matched, and he wondered for a second if it was a design choice or if they had been sent to her by admirers.

Her bedroom door had the most fragrant flowers of all: two large bouquets of lavender-colored roses intermixed with white peonies. He smiled to himself and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before knocking.

Noa answered a few seconds later, looking surprised. She wore only a black silk chemise — a design more for practicality than for seduction — with minimal makeup and her hair in large curlers. She recovered quickly and relaxed her posture. "You're early. And now that you've seen me like this, I'm going to have to have you killed."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, although I thought you'd be dressed. I arrived at exactly the time you told me to," he said casually.

"I thought men were always late," she mused.

"I think you're thinking of women," he said, irony thick in his tone.

She moved so he could enter. The door clicked shut behind him.

Her bedroom was rather small considering the grandiose house. It was decorated like something out of a magazine — clean, shiny, generic. More flowers and plants lined the walls. The only indicator that the room actually belonged to someone were the personal photographs framed and placed on every surface.

"I'll just be a few more minutes," she said. "Feel free to look around, make yourself at home."

Another maid emerged from a side room — presumably a closet — holding a black dress encased in a translucent garment bag. The closet was filled with skirts, blouses, dresses, and shoes — she never wore pants — in every part of the color spectrum. He recognized most of the pieces.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," he said, walking over to a shelf where the bulk of her pictures were. "What you're wearing is fine."

"It isn't for you," she said lightly. Her voice was somewhat distant — she had retreated to the bathroom to finish up. "I have a date tonight."

He repressed some sort of feeling so quickly he didn't even have time to identify it. Even if he had stopped seeing other women, she had every right to see other men; but she hadn't talked about other men in months. "Then why did you invite me over?"

"Would you believe me if I said I just like your company?"

He would.

The photographs were mostly of Noa at various ages with her family and friends. There were some of her in Greece, hugging a fair-haired woman who simultaneously looked nothing and exactly like her; her mother, he assumed. One was with her mother's parents, dressed and posed like the political family they were. The pictures with her father — a greying Japanese man — were more formal, although Kyoya could really see the light in his eyes as he stood by his daughter's side at her college graduation. There were even some of her and Itsuki Oshiro, her late husband. He seemed to age ten years in every picture, but next to Noa, he beamed. She even seemed happy too.

"Do you live here alone?" he wondered, moving along to her bookshelf.

"A few staff members live here. Technically my mother-in-law does too, but she's only here a few times a year. My father and his wife stay here sometimes too, and my mother, when she visits. But usually it's just me."

"Your father's wife?" he asked, amused. "Not your stepmother?"

"Well, she's my age, so...no. I wouldn't call her my stepmother."

She walked out of bathroom with a silk lilac robe covering her chemise. Her hair was now in loose waves and her makeup enhanced her features. She looked effortlessly beautiful, and until then he'd never thought about how much time actually went in to her appearance.

"Do you like math?" she asked.

He pondered the random question for a moment before realizing he'd been examining a book about the theory of mathematics. "I was more into physics."

"I majored in mathematics in college," she said quietly. "I had a few papers published on the subject."

He knew that. She'd mentioned her passion for math before and he had learned all about her academic career through his research, but he was still surprised that someone as beautiful as her was involved so heavily in a field that was traditionally filled with not so beautiful people.

The maid said something in a language Kyoya didn't know — Greek, he thought — before hanging the garment bag in the doorway to the bathroom and pulling a pair of pointy black suede shoes from the closet. Noa smirked and replied with a sarcastic tone and a casual wave of her hand, and the maid bowed at the two of them and left.

"She said to not to ruin my makeup," she joked, turning back to Kyoya. She placed her hand tentatively on his arm, coming a few inches closer. She smelled like the flowers she decorated her home with.

The rain seemed louder now than it did before. He smirked slightly and put his hand at the nape of her neck, leaning down to meet her lips halfway.

* * *

"Have you ever been in love?"

The question came as a shock to Kyoya, and Noa could see it on his face. He was mostly shocked that she had chosen that exact moment to ask this: his hand was wrapped tightly around his shaft, her own saliva sliding between his fingers and acting as a makeshift lubricant for when he pushed into her depths. In their twenty-odd minutes of foreplay, neither had said more than a few syllables.

"No, I don't suppose I have," he entertained.

"If you have to think about it then you haven't," she said simply.

He couldn't, in good conscience, continue this little escapade without picking her brain first. "Have you?" he asked, slowing his pace on his member and running his thumb over the head.

"Once," she said, looking dreamily off to the side. She was completely splayed out before him, with perky breasts and open legs. He could see every detail of her dripping, wet pussy. The situation didn't seem to phase her one bit.

"With your husband?"

She sighed. "No. I loved Itsuki, but not in that way. After he died I began a secret affair with a pauper. We were only together for about six months, but it was the happiest I had ever been."

Kyoya began rubbing her hips lazily, his hand quickly finding her folds. He inserted one long finger, gauging her wetness. She wriggled slightly at the new penetration. "Are you happy now?"

She looked him square in the eye and asked, "Are you?"

He gave a small noise of acknowledgment and smirked briefly before leaning down and tentatively kissing her. He placed one hand above her head in her hair and used the other to guide himself into her.

She made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a hum, sucking earnestly on his lips as she wrapped her ankles around his calves. Her hands held his waist loosely, but he was barely aware of it: he was in his own world now, desperately trying to reach his own pleasure. His hands rested on either side of her head, smoothing her long dark hair. With his eyes clenched shut he began an even, steady rate, thrusting deep into her.

It was obvious every time he hit her G-spot — he knew how to find it well enough now. Her breasts would bounce up against his chest, the sweet skin on skin contact causing her moan loudly. She pressed her hips eagerly against his. The air was thick with their pleasured grunts as his movements became quicker. The headboard pounded against the wall and the bed squeaked loudly beneath them. She began tightening around his thickness, making his balls tighten against his body.

"Oh, fuck..."

He rarely swore — he never had the need to — but he couldn't help it from escaping in a gravelly voice. The way she felt against him should be sinful, and at that thought he picked up his pace even more. The sound of skin slapping on skin got even louder as Kyoya pounded into her. She was completely his, dead husbands and ex-lovers be damned, and nothing could stop him from tearing her open with his massive cock. The feeling of her fingernails digging into his skin only made him go harder, her desperate whimpers, her begging, her screams pleading for more of him only made him go farther.

"Kyoya...Kyo— _Kyoya_!"

At last, with a final climactic grunt he pushed deep within her, releasing rope after rope of his warm cum. He felt like he was on fire. He could feel everything: the warm liquid coming from deep within my body and shooting out, her walls tightening around him with every gush, and his abdomen flexing with every burst. His entire body was trembling as he pulled out, a string of her juices following his withdrawal.

His eyes focused as best as they could without his glasses — she was trembling beneath him. Her teeth were sinking into her lips, leaving various impressions in the soft pink tissue. The normally calm look within her eyes was gone, replaced by a frantic pleading. He looked down and pulled the condom off, holding the dripping latex between two fingers.

"Just toss it," she said desperately. She was clawing at any part of him she could reach, spreading her legs wider than ever before.

He smirked at her before sliding down her body and hooking his arms under her knees, holding her thighs in his hands. She whimpered immediately and thrusted up into his grasp, and he chuckled at her eagerness. Noa wasn't usually the impatient type. His tongue flicked out of his mouth and around her outer folds, collecting a delicious amount of the natural lubricant. An echoing moan escaped her mouth before he pressed his tongue forcefully into her hole. Her hands flew up and got lost in his hair, just like he had done with her not twenty minutes ago.

He carefully maneuvered his tongue around the tight confines of her womanhood. A slew of cuss words immediately left her mouth as her hips flew forward. His grip stayed tight, allowing her little room to wiggle so that he could pleasure her at a rate he was comfortable with. The warmth of her center and the tightness of her thighs against his cheeks were signs that she was already on the edge of an orgasm. Clenching his eyes shut again, he began sucking with earnest intentions.

He had never really cared about helping a woman reach her climax, but he found himself wanting to prove something to her. What he was trying to prove, he wasn't entirely sure, but he did know this was a good start.

She started trembling again, screaming against his tongue one last time, pushing up violently. He felt suffocated at their proximity but slurped heavily, finally rewarded with the first burst of her cum within his mouth. Her hands moved to his shoulders, and he moved his hands to join his fingers with hers. She arched her back off the bed as he licked her clean without thinking.

Eventually she began to settle down, at which point he pulled away and wiped off his mouth. She was still shaking, and it almost worried him that she would experience a seizure with the rate of her tremors. Laughing quietly, he fell next to her, trying his hardest to catch his breath.

She grinned at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. He pulled the blanket over them and they laid in silence for a few long minutes before Kyoya asked, "Do you ever think about him?

"Who? Itsuki or the pauper?"

He had to think for a second. "Both."

"I think about Itsuki sometimes," she said. "He wasn't much of a lover — we were only intimate when we needed to be — but he was a good man. I do miss his companionship, but I'm not really that sad anymore."

"And the pauper?"

He heard a smile in her voice. "Sometimes."

He waited for more, but nothing came.

"What was your first time making love like?" she asked. She turned onto her side so she could look at him. He could feel her breath on his shoulder.

"I was fifteen," he admitted. He could see her shocked expression out of the corner of his eye. "She was an American, the wife of one of my father's business partners. She sought me out after dinner one night, and it just kind of happened. I felt horrible after. I couldn't look my father or his partner in the eye for weeks." He turned to her and smiled. "No one knows that. Everyone thinks it was when I was eighteen." The story everyone else knew involved his birthday, too much alcohol, and a prostitute courtesy of the Hitachiin brothers.

She was flattered, but she didn't show it. "You didn't love her?"

"She wasn't mine to love. I was young and hormonal, and she gave me the attention I thought I wanted. But love her, I did not."

"My first time was the day before my wedding," she said. "Itsuki was having a good day, and good days were so far and few in between, you never knew if tomorrow would be good too. I think we sort of felt like we owed it to each other, to have just one good day together."

He turned on his side. "Isn't it strange how it's called lovemaking when it's so rarely with the person you're in love with?" He only then realized that his arm was around her waist, his hand lightly rubbing her lower back. He didn't remove it.

"It is funny, isn't it?" She was slowly scooting closer to him, rubbing her soft feet along his legs under the covers.

He tangled his legs with hers, grabbing her butt suddenly and pulling her roughly to him. She giggled and met his lips with a smile. They kissed feverishly, as her hand caressed his cheek and his arms held her tightly.

He broke the kiss and sighed. "What's it like to be in love?"

"It's horrible," Noa said immediately, turning away again and covering her eyes. "You can't think straight. Everything you do, you wonder why you're doing it, and how it will affect the way the other person sees you. But it's nice too, once you've stopped falling and started being. Falling in love is a lot of romance and feeling like you're about to burst with happiness. It consumes you. And then being in love is when all the good stuff happens. You feel whole, sort of, and comfortable. You don't feel so alone."

"How did you know you were in love?"

She was silent for a long few seconds — she seemed to be debating what she wanted to say, like she was embarrassed. "I went to Greece to visit my mother and whenever I would look out at the ocean all I could think of was him. That's how I knew." She looked at him again with a sad smile in her eyes. "Who do you think of when you look at the ocean?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "It's been awhile since I've been."

"Well, please go soon and return to me with the news. I know just about everyone, I can tell you if she's worth it or not. And if she's married I can change that."

Kyoya laughed. "Who do you think about now?"

"My family," she said softly. She snuggled closer to Kyoya, putting her head on his chest. "But it's been awhile since I've been too, so I don't really know."

"We can go together. My family owns a private beach in Okinawa."

"Sure," she said. "I can move some things around at the end of this month."

"I hope I don't think of you," Kyoya joked, subconsciously tightening his arm around her. He put his face in her hair and closed his eyes. "Then I'd have to go to hypnotherapy, see if I can convince myself otherwise."

"Well, if I saw you, I'd probably throw myself into the ocean right then and there," she quipped quietly.

They laid in a comfortable silence for a long time. Finally, she said, "I should get dressed." But they kept laying there for a few more minutes before she got up, lit a cigarette, and put her dress on. Just like she always did.

* * *

The rain had stopped. The city lights reflected off the dark puddles, giving the city a fresh new sheen. He turned his collar up against the wind, putting his hands deep into the pockets of his black trench. He walked slowly along the pier, debating if he really wanted to do this. It would certainly benefit him to know, but he wasn't sure he if he wanted to wholly invest in something so capricious.

The clicking of heels against the wooden planks caught his attention. "I had a feeling I'd find you here," Noa said, walking casually towards him. She had her hands in her pockets and a purse dangling from a chain on her shoulder. Her beige coat was stark against her black dress and black tights. "You're cheating."

"I thought you had a date," he said lightly.

"I did," she said. She stopped a few feet away from him. "He was English, a lord or a duke or something. He was very attractive — blond, coiffed hair, six pack, beard, the works — but so _boring_. It was like talking to a brick wall. That's the last time I let my father try and set me up; he's oh-for-two."

Kyoya smiled and exhaled a laugh. He couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved. "You seem to do just fine picking out your own suitors."

"Exactly," she said. She paused for a moment and then asked, "Did you look yet?"

She meant at the ocean — it was the whole reason he was there, and that she was too. Was it possible that they had fallen in _love_? Kyoya had never considered he would have ever fallen in love ten months ago. Love was something people with no money and too much time on their hands experienced. "No," he said.

"On the count of three we'll turn around and look. Okay?" she said it like she was trying to to sound passive, but he could hear the excitement in her voice.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she counted, but he kept watching her. The wind played with her hair, strands of it dancing around her face. What if he was in love with her? Would things be different? Would he still be the same cool and calculating person he'd always been, or would he turn soft? Tamaki and Haruhi had certainly changed when they fell in love — the changes were subtle, but they were there. And, God willing, was Noa in love with him too?

"Three."

They both turned, looking out at the ocean. They stared out at Rainbow Bridge. It was illuminated with white lights, bright against the rest of the city, and packed with cars. The bracing wind whipped around them, stirring the water below.

"I think this is the part where one of us says something," Noa said quietly. He could see her turn to him in the corner of his eye.

He kept his gaze forward for as long as he could before looking at her. "Ladies first," he said. "Who did you see?"

A smirk played on her lips, and he felt himself mirroring her expression. "Myself," she said with playful arrogance.

His smirk grew. "My middle school chemistry teacher," he said back with the same vain.

She laughed a little bit before pushing away from the railing. "Let's get going. It's getting cold."

"Let me take you home." He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her in close to him, kissing her scalp. She automatically wrapped one arm around his waist and placed her other hand against his chest.

Walking within such proximity proved difficult, but despite the initial clumsiness, it didn't take long for them to get their stride. They held each other tightly, leaning heavily on against one another as they walked slowly away from the dark pier and into the welcoming lights of the city.


End file.
